I rarely write personal essays, and when one is assigned despite my protests, I make a conscious effort to write more about others--or, better yet, abstract concepts--than I do about myself. I don't know why, other that I'm a very private person. And yet, whenever I write about the characters I've created, or about the writing process in general, the resulting essay reveals more about me than I ever intended.

That's what ended up happening with this essay, "Listen". I wrote it as part of my college application, which I sent to six colleges, five of which accepted me. The college which I will be attending in the fall started their acceptance letter with a quote from the essay and a note on how deeply it resonated with their admissions staff. My parents' initial reaction was more along the lines of "...that's... different... very you, though." And I have to agree. "Listen" is a meditation on an integral part of my identity; it speaks to an experience that many and yet few share. And it is utterly, undeniably mine.

Enjoy.

Some
students have a background or story that is so central to their
identity that they believe their application would be incomplete
without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

Listen.
I am going to tell you how I write, which will answer the question of
why I write. And because I am what I do, because my view of the world
has been changed by those I create, my writing will show you more of
who I am than any lesson I've learned in life.

It
starts with a voice. Some characters readily speak out to me,
surprising me as I walk down the hallway. They shout in a gruff
Scottish accent or a sarcastic drawl with a hint of suppressed
dread. Oi,
you! Listen! I've got a story to tell, and I've got a gun, so you'd
best tell it right. Or I
ain't gon' leave you 'lone 'til you put pen to paper. Ain't got the
time. Sometimes
they beg me to soothe their sadness, to show them something,
anything, to keep them going, because they just can't take this
anymore. Sometimes they scream and run around my mind in a restless
mania that leaves me shaking. Sometimes they try to seduce me to the
dark side, which is rather terrifying, especially when the most
brilliant doctor in the history of neuroscience offers me tea as he
plans his next nonconsensual lobotomy.

But
some voices are soft. Some voices I have to listen for, and quickly,
before they're silenced. These are the ones I can't afford to ignore.
If I don't encourage them, they will start to believe I don't care
about them. And then their voices will fade away, their stories gone
from my mind forever. It's the same as with people-I owe these
characters my respect and my ear. They are human beings, just like
anyone else, and they chose to come to me to help them share their
voices with the world. Because when you hear someone's voice, that
someone becomes a real person to you. You begin to understand that no
one else speaks quite like her. She may be fictional, as many of the
best people are, but she is still a human with wants and needs and
rights. And the more you treat a person as a fellow human, the more
you get to find out who she really is at the core.

When
I create, I want to become a sort of conduit, a vessel, a prism
through which the emotions of humanity flow and are transformed. I
want to become a part of my characters, of their inner voices, of
what they really think underneath the lies they tell themselves. I
want to translate their emotions into words that will evoke those
same emotions in others. Writing is how true empaths are made.
Sharing deep, raw emotions with someone else makes you more
compassionate, more understanding, and more hopeful, I think. God
knows my characters have kept me from the brink of despair, each in
her own special way. They listen to me, just as I first listened to
them. They know how I feel, just as I know how they feel. I am never
alone, because I carry their hopes inside of me wherever I go.

So
listen. Listen to my voice and to any voice, however soft, that calls
out to you when least expected. Listen to the stories these voices
carry with them, for it is through the telling of these tales that we
humans come to truly understand one another. Listen. I think I hear a
new voice even now.